


Paying in Naïvety

by Joanne_Lupin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-02-13 19:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2162538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanne_Lupin/pseuds/Joanne_Lupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trigger warning for rape. </p><p>Molly Hooper has always gone along with Jim Moriarty's requests; she knows he'll find a way to convince her in the end, anyway. But when, one night, Jim takes things too far, Molly does something wildly out-of-character to, for once, control her own life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my 50th fic posted on ao3. Pretty cool, right?
> 
> I'm not saying updates on this fic are contingent on feedback, but a few positive comments might speed up the next update...

Molly Hooper still finds it hard to admit that she had been a virgin- hell, she hadn't even been been kissed- until her junior year of college. It hadn't necessarily been her choice; she was just always too shy and too busy for dating. It hadn't even been a very big deal to her until she met James. Before then, it was just sort of irritating. Twenty years of sexual frustration can do that to a person. 

She was at a party one night when she met Jim. It wasn't her first party, but it was one of the wildest. The parties she'd attended earlier had been smaller get-togethers with a few friends. But Brenna from across the hall had dragged her along, crying, "You’ve gotta go to a party sometime, girl! You're missing out!"

She doesn't remember a lot from that night, actually. She remembers Jim introducing himself. ("Hey, there, gorgeous. The name's James- Jim, if I like you. And I'm thinking I do.") She remembers Jim going to get her a drink- and another, and another- until things got blurry. The rest she has is bits and pieces: a touch here, a pair of lips there. She woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and Jim’s number in her phone. She was- still is- made a little uncomfortable by the realization that her first real kiss happened with a near-stranger in an alcohol-induced haze. She wishes she could remember it better; she wishes she knew where exactly it had been, what song had been playing, if she'd protested. 

Sometimes she worries that, despite what Jim always says, things went farther that night than what she can recall. When she'd asked, the people who'd been there said she and Jim had disappeared for a while, but he maintains that they didn't do anything but make out. Molly tells herself that she'd remember something like losing her virginity. But even after all this time, she can't ditch the worry that often nags at her insides.

-o0o-

When Molly told Jim that the kiss at the party had been her first (a few days later, when they ran into each other in the rec hall), he apologized immediately. 

"God, I'm so sorry, Molly! I had no idea, obviously. Otherwise, I assure you, I would've just taken you home. I mean, how could I have known? You were all over me at that party, and I figured you knew what you wanted. But still, I'm so, so sorry!"

"No," Molly replied quickly, taken aback by Jim’s reaction. "No, don't be sorry! It wasn't your fault. You didn't know."

He flashed Molly a sympathetic smile. "Still. I feel terrible. Let me make it up to you. Dinner, maybe?"

Molly blushed, nodding. “That sounds great, actually.”

“Great! Meet you in the commons at… six?”

Molly nodded. 

“See you then, gorgeous,” James said with a wink. Molly’s heart nearly fluttered out of her chest. 

-o0o-

On their third date, Jim took her back to his dorm. Before he closed the door, he hung his tie on the doorknob. Molly frowned. The action seemed a bit presumptuous. She knew that, customarily, girls put out on third dates, but it still seemed too soon. She still felt like she barely knew Jim. He’d asked her a lot of questions about herself, but had rarely answered any of her questions about him. She’d hoped that, by going back to his dorm, she’d learn a thing or two about him, but it seemed that Jim’s mind was on physical- not emotional- intimacy.

Somehow, James had her making out with him on the bed sooner than she’d thought possible. Every time she pulled away- even for air- he pulled her back. It was only painful once or twice, and when she whimpered, he’d whisper, “Sorry, love,” and kiss her harder. He took her hand in his and pulled it over the bulge in his pants. Then he unbuttoned his fly.

“Jim, what are you-”

“This _is_ our third date, Molly. I thought, even with your inexperience, that you’d understand what that meant,” he said sweetly.

Molly pulled away, focusing her gaze on the hand that steadied her on the mattress. James’ eyes followed her closely, but he let her move. “It’s just that I’m not so sure I’m ready for it.”

“For what, Molly?”

“For… For sex.”

James was silent for a moment. Then, to Molly’s surprise, he laughed. “Oh, Molly, I wasn’t suggesting _sex,_ for goodness sake! Oral is plenty fine, dear.”

“Oh… Oh.” Molly frowned. She didn’t much like the idea of giving _or_ receiving oral this early in the relationship; she put it in the same category as “sex.” It was just as much too much for her as full-on intercourse. 

James tipped up her chin so she’d meet his eyes. “I wouldn’t ask something of you if I didn’t think you couldn’t do it, Molly.”

“I know.” Molly smiled. “I trust you.”

“You like seeing me, don’t you? I know I quite enjoy seeing you.”

“I do. I really like seeing you.”

“And we’ll most likely keep seeing each other until we get to the point of pleasuring each other orally, won’t we?”

“I… I guess…”

“So why not now, Molly? Do you really think you’re less comfortable with the idea now than you’ll be- when? In another date from now? Two? A year from now?”

“Maybe… after I’ve read up on it… or something…”

“You’re a medical student, Molly. You must know all about the human penis.” Exasperation was creeping into his silky-smooth voice and calm features.

“I mean, I guess, in theory, but…”

“Come _on,_ then!” James took a breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them, their fire was gone, replaced by a warm, affectionate glow. “I’m sorry, Molly. I do understand your concern, but it hurts me that you don’t love me enough to try.”

Molly cupped his face in her hands soothingly. “I _do_ love you, Jim. I…” She took a deep breath of her own. “I’ll do it. For you.”

James kissed her softly. “Good girl.”

-o0o-

Molly still remembers the strange, “off” sort of feeling that wriggled inside her that night. She couldn’t escape the notion that something was wrong, that this isn’t how things are supposed to go.

She still can’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She knows she’ll have to get ready for Jim soon, but she just doesn’t have the energy. He’ll be home in about an hour. Her chores won’t take that long. She needs a moment-- just a moment-- to rest first. She closes her eyes. 
> 
> What wakes her is a sharp , burning pain on her cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR RAPE IN THIS CHAPTER
> 
> please be safe.
> 
> also-- i realize how long it took me to update this. all i can say is that i'm a turdbutt.

Molly is tired. She kicks off her shoes carefully, nudging them so they’re where Jim likes, before flopping down on the couch. Her head rolls back against the cushions. She knows she’ll have to get ready for Jim soon, but she just doesn’t have the energy. He’ll be home in about an hour. Her chores won’t take that long. She needs a moment-- just a moment-- to rest first. She closes her eyes. 

What wakes her is a sharp , burning pain on her cheek. Her eyes flicker open. James is standing over, his hand raised, his eyes cold.

“Molly…” he begins dangerously. 

“I… I just--” Molly stammers. Fear is coursing through her, clouding her head and freezing her limbs. She can’t even raise a hand to feel the spot where warm, sharp pain is flooding her skin. 

“You just what, Molly?” His anger is apparent despite the levelness of his voice. His eyes are full of fire, but their heat is calculated and carefully measured. “You just _what_?”

“I just…” Words start spilling out of her, tears along with them. “I was just so tired after today, and I couldn’t seem to get anything right during rounds, and one of my patients tried to bite me, and I was just going to close my eyes for a few seconds, but then--”

“Work? Is that what this is about? Molly, I thought I was more important than work. I thought I came first. Don’t you love me?” His tone and his eyes don’t change. 

Molly goes cold. He’s said those words before. Nothing good comes after them.

“Of course I do, James! I do everything for you! Of course I love you!”

James bends down so he’s looming over her, inches from her face. “Show me,” he hisses. Then he grips her jaw painfully and pulls her up for a harsh kiss. When he releases her she nods. He backs away, and she springs up and scurries to the kitchen. She cooks frantically, double-checking her work every step of the way. She knows that this dinner needs to be good, but she also knows that she needs to hurry before James gets tired of waiting. 

Twenty minutes later, she’s finishing up. James walks is sitting at the kitchen table, watching her every move. She pulls the steaks out of the oven and sets them down on the table, followed by the green bean and portobello saute. James appraises the food indifferently. 

“What can I get you to drink, dear?” Molly asks as she straightens the silverware. 

“Merlot,” he commands. She pours him a glass, and gets herself a glass of water. She feels like a slave as she places his wine in front of him and serves him his food.

James doesn’t even wait for Molly to sit down before he takes a bite. His eyes betray nothing. Molly watches apprehensively as he swallows.

“How is--” James shushes her before she can continue. After that, they eat in silence. Molly hasn’t eaten anything since that morning, but all she can manage now is a couple of beans. 

When he’s done, James gets up without a word. Molly sits for a moment. She wants to figure out what kind of game he’s playing with her, but everything he does is a mystery. She rises and hurries through the cleanup. As she’s washing the dishes, James’ wine glass slips from her hand and clatters to the floor. Immediately, James is there.

“What was that?”

“Your wine glass slipped-- it was an accident.”

James makes a move towards her, but stops short. “Finish the dishes.”

He leaves. Molly knows she should be relieved she escaped without punishment, but she’s still afraid. She’s afraid that James has something in store for her.

When she’s finished cleaning up the broken glass and doing the rest of the dishes, she hurries through her other chores: sweeping, dusting, laundry, and straightening up. When she’s done, she stands in the living room, waiting for James to notice her. She’d never dare to interrupt him while he’s reading. 

Finally, he puts the book down and stands. 

“You’ve disappointed me, Molly.”

The words make her blood turn to ice. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I thought you loved me enough to be better than this.”

“I _do_ love you, James! I promise, I do!” Molly never thought this is what love would be to her.

-o0o-

Their first date-- Molly’s first date in _years_ \-- was magical. Jim took her to an incredible four-star restaurant. The food was delicious, but Molly hardly tasted it. All her attention was focused on Jim. He told her story after story, launching on tangents and spinning back around to his original point, as if he was reading her an intricately-written novel. 

She’d never met anyone quite like him. He had such a powerful presence. It was his eyes, she thinks. 

They made her feel like she was falling in love.

-o0o-

“You say you love me, Molly, but it doesn’t seem much like it. You put your work ahead of me, then you damn near try to _poison_ me with that undercooked steak, and _then_ you break one of my crystal wine glasses. Do you have any idea how much those cost?”

“I-- I don’t--” 

“It doesn’t matter. What matters, Molly, is that you obviously don’t care enough about me to do things _right_ for me. That hurts.” 

He takes a step towards her. Molly wants to take a step back, but she know it will only make things worse. 

“Do you even really love me?” James asks. He continues stepping closer to her, and even when he’s across the room, Molly can feel his presence looming over her.

It’s his eyes.

-o0o-

Their second date was similarly magical. 

Jim was waiting to surprise her outside of her last class of the day. “Come, then, dear.”

“What? Where--”

“You’ll see…”

Jim led her through the streets without much talk. “Ah, here we are,” he said suddenly. He turned the corner, and Molly saw where he’d been taking her: a carnival.

“Jim, this is great!” She beamed at him.

“I thought you might enjoy it.”

-o0o-

Molly’s heart is pounding. She’s really done it now, hasn’t she? She’s let James down, and he won’t forgive her this time. He’ll break up with her, and then she’ll really be in trouble. How could she have neglected James like this? He’s the most important thing in her life; she’s given him everything. She’s nothing without him.

“I _do_ love you! I do! You know I do! I need you, James!” 

He’s very close, now. His breath is hot on her forehead. 

“I don’t believe you,” he growls.

“I do, I do! I do love you!” Molly cowers from him, but he’s backed her against the wall.

“ _Liar!_ ”

James’ fist leaves pain blossoming across her cheekbone.

-o0o-

“Oh. Oh, my god. Molly, I’m so sorry!”

Molly looked up at Jim, her hands covering her cheek. She wanted to say something-- anything-- but she was dumbstruck. Her mouth moved, but every time she opened it, it seemed to close of its own accord.

“Let me get you an ice pack, dear. Come, sit down, please.” He held his hand-- the hand that had just struck her-- out. 

She took it.

-o0o-

“You’re such a liar! You don’t love me! Not enough!” He grabs her shoulders, pulling her towards him and then smashing her against the wall. He throws her to the ground. She smashes into a side table, breaking the lamp and couple of framed photos.

“Please,” Molly whimpers. “I love you, please believe me.” 

“You’re a liar!” 

He pulls her up roughly, tearing her shirt sleeve off partially as he does so. Molly feels exposed. 

Then he kisses her. Molly doesn’t expect it. Her lips automatically part for James, but his tongue feels invasive and unnatural. She turns her head away, but James pulls it back. 

Molly feels James’ trousers fall against her feet. Her heart rate quickens. She’s so afraid, and she doesn’t know why. They’ve had sex before, loads of times. But somehow, this is different. She doesn’t want this.

“No,” she whispers. James ignores her. She tries a little louder. “No, please.” 

He presses on, yanking down her skirt and her tights. She cries out wordlessly. James shushes her and holds a shard of glass-- _From the pictures,_ Molly thinks-- to her cheek. 

“Can’t have the neighbors hear, can we? Then we’d really be in trouble.” He drives in his point by pressing the glass into her cheek-- not enough to cut, but enough to be threatening. Molly gasps, but stays quiet.

James removes her underwear. Molly clenches her jaw shut to keep herself from making noise. It’s like James isn’t James anymore; he’s a monster.

He has her hands pinned above her head with one arm. It’s painful. James’ other hand is pressing the edge of the glass against the skin of her hip. She almost screams again as he enters her. It feels so wrong. It hurts. Tears stream down her face.

James does a lot of things that scare her, but until now, Molly never thought James would betray her by forcing himself on her. He always asked. Always. 

She’s thankful for the pain in her arms and her hip. She lets those pains distract her. But sometimes she can’t help but feel James inside her. 

When he finishes, he lets go of her. Her arms don’t want to move. She can feel blood gushing down her leg in multiple places, and she doesn’t want to think about what that means. 

“Clean this up,” he mutters. He walks away. Leaves her there.

Molly sinks to the ground. Her arms are slowly moving. When they aren’t so stiff anymore, she wraps them around her knees. She sobs quietly until she feels empty. She feels like a ghost as she cleans everything up. 

It isn’t until she’s done cleaning that everything _really_ hits her. And not just everything about what happened, but everything from their whole relationship.

She realizes she’s never been in control. James always moves too fast, coerces her into everything she doesn’t want to do. Until now. 

She wants to take control.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly escapes to a strip club, hoping to feel free. But a mysterious woman won't let her wounds go unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't as intense as the previous one. Still, proceed with caution.

The first thing she needs to do is get dressed. She doesn’t want to look at her body anymore. It doesn’t feel like her body. It feels like a crime scene. 

She grabs her panties and the skirt off the ground and pulls them on quickly. There are spatters of blood on them. She tells herself it doesn’t matter. 

Next, she creeps into James’ room. She pushes the door open quietly. He’s asleep.

This is what Molly wants, but she can’t help feeling a little angry. James can sleep, but she knows she won’t be able to. Not for a while. 

She creeps into the bathroom. She has some money stored away in a box of tampons-- one of the few places she knows James will never look. She takes it all. She doesn’t know how much she’ll need.

After slipping on some flats, she’s finally able to leave. Butterflies flutter in her stomach. She feels scattered. Frantic. Like she’s been stretched too thin.

She walks all the way there, just to feel the wind slap her skin and to absorb herself in a single task. The blood from the cut on her hip soaks into her skirt, and she can feel more blood slick between her knees. She knows she should get medical attention, but the idea of letting anyone touch her on their own terms terrifies her, so she presses on, even as she starts getting dizzy. 

She doesn’t quite know where she’s going, but she has a vague idea.

A guy outside asks for an ID. Luckily, she’d forgotten to remove her lanyard from the hospital. It has her hospital ID, which has her birth date. The guy lets her in.

Immediately, she buys herself a shot. She doesn’t normally drink much, but she needs something to remove herself from her situation, and alcohol is one piece of that puzzle. The other piece, well…

She’d heard about this place from the other interns at the hospital. The male interns, mostly. They like to brag about their various sexual adventures during breaks. Though the place isn’t a full-fledged brothel, she’d heard that many of the strippers here would engage in prostitution. _That_ is the other piece. 

The alcohol burns going down, and she relishes the feeling, even though it aggravates her dizziness.

The club is dark and smoky. Some of the dancers walk around, talking to the customers (all male, save Molly herself). One seems to be finishing up a routine onstage. Molly goes to lean on a pillar near the stage. The patrons cheer loudly. The dancer’s routine must be finished.

“Up next is a real crowd pleaser here at the Diamond,” said the disembodied voice of a male announcer. “You all know her. You love her. And tonight, she’s here to whip you into shape!” There’s scattered laughter from the patrons. “Here she is… The Woman!”

The curtains part. Molly’s heart stops. 

The Woman looks like something out of a fantasy Molly had never dared to have. She’s in a perfectly tailored suit with tall, shiny heels. Her hair is up in a loose bun. What draws Molly’s-- and everyone else’s-- attention, however, is the whip. 

The Woman walks slowly to the edge of the stage. She releases her hair, and it falls in long, full waves over her shoulders. Some men try to reach out and touch her, and she cracks the whip in the air as a warning. The crowd goes wild. She smirks. She unbuttons one button of her suit jacket with one hand, the other spinning the whip above her head. She turns away, still spinning the whip, and fiddles with the other button. 

One man shouts, “TAKE IT OFF!” The Woman cracks the whip in his direction without even turning her head. It staps right in front of his face. The crowd cheers.

Molly wants her. This woman is the most dominating person Molly has ever met, and she needs to dominate her, needs to show herself that she can be in control.

She slips back to the bar and gets her first good look at the bartender, a young woman in a tight, low-cut T-shirt. She eyes Molly’s torn sleeve, but doesn’t comment on it. “Can I do anything for you?”

“That woman,” Molly says. “ _The_ Woman. Is she… Does she…” Her face goes red. 

“You must be new,” says the bartender.

“Yeah. Very.”

“Have a drink. On the house.”

“Oh. Thank you!”

The bartender passes Molly a shot. “She does, by the way. But it’s pricey.”

“I have money.”

The bartender’s eyes flit to her torn shirt again. “Okay… Talk to Eddie over there.” She points to a tough-looking man perched in a corner of the room. “He’ll get you set up.”

“Thank you.” Molly downs her second shot and smiles through the burn. Then she walks over to Eddie. She stumbles far too much for someone who’s only had two drinks. “Excuse me.”

Eddie surveys her. In the darkness, he can’t see the extent of the state she’s in. “Yeah?”

“I’d like to, um, buy some time alone. With The Woman.”

“She’s pricey,” he warns. 

“I’m good for it.” 

“Seven hundred for an hour.”

Molly nods. “I can do that.” She takes out her purse and grabs a handful of notes.

“Okay. Pay upfront. I’ll get you a room in back for when she’s done up there. Wait here.”

Molly nods, handing him the notes. He pockets them and disappears into the crowd. 

While she waits, the panic inside Molly reappears. She tries to let the dance beat drown it out, but it just fuels the throbbing in her head. She feels so, so dizzy. She wants to cry, but the tears don’t fall. 

Finally, Eddie comes back. “Let’s go, sweetheart.” 

He leads her through the club and down a hallway. He stops in front of a door with “OCCUPIED” scribbled on an attached whiteboard. “She’s in there.” He leaves.

Molly takes a deep breath, straightens her back, and opens the door.

The Woman is there, standing in a strong stance, her arms crossed. It’s as dark as it was in the club. “Where would you--” She falters when she takes Molly in. Her eyes widen. “You’re--”

Molly cuts her off by smashing their lips together. The Woman freezes. Molly kisses her vigorously, pulling her close by her hips. Something seems to click, and The Woman reciprocates the kiss. Her hands grip Molly’s hips for a second. Then she breaks away, studying her own hand in alarm. “Is… Is this blood?”

“So what?” Molly says. She steps closer, wanting to pull her back in, but The Woman is having none of it.

“Are you okay?” She studies her more closely.

“Yes. I’m fine. Now, let’s get on with it,” Molly presses. 

“No,” The Woman says firmly. She passes Molly and flips a switch near the door. They both squint as the room is flooded with light. 

“ _I’m_ paying _you_ , aren’t I?”

The Woman grabs a phone from a little table and fiddles with it for a moment. “There. Now I’m off the clock. Tell me what happened.” When she looks up, she notices the rivulets of blood between Molly’s legs. Her eyes widen.

Molly shakes her head, her lip quivering. “No. I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I can’t make you, but I think you should. I think you need to.” The Woman faces Molly and rubs her arms comfortingly. 

Molly breaks. She starts sobbing, and nearly falls. The Woman catches her and helps her sit down on the couch in the room. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” The Woman murmurs. “You can tell me what’s wrong.”

“I… I don’t even know your name,” Molly protests.

“Irene,” she says. “Call me Irene.”

“Molly,” Molly squeaks.

“Molly, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Molly leans against Irene. “I’m so dizzy.”

“You need a hospital.”

“No! No, I can’t! They’ll--” she breaks off in a sob. 

“Molly,” Irene says sternly. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. And you’ve had alcohol, haven’t you? You _need_ to go to a hospital.”

Molly shakes her head weakly. Her eyes are getting glassy.

“That’s it. You’re coming with me.” She lifts Molly up and helps her to the door. Molly complies, sobbing quietly.

Irene helps Molly out through a back entrance and sits her down in a car. As they drive, Irene talks to Molly to keep her lucid. 

“Molly, what do you do?”

“I’m an intern at the hospital. I do nurse stuff now, but when I’m done with that, I wanna work in the morgue.”

“The morgue?”

“Wanna figure out their stories. They’re mysteries.”

“Do you know how to treat wounds?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you--”

“No time.”

Irene wants to press on, but she’s afraid of getting Molly too worked up. 

“Am I gonna die?” Molly whimpers.

Too late.

“No, don’t say that! You’ll be fine. We just need to get you patched up, is all.” 

“Maybe I should,” Molly says.

“What makes you say that?”

“I can’t go back. I have nowhere else. But I can’t go back.”

“Go back where?”

Molly shakes her head.

“It’s okay. You… You can stay with me.”

“He’ll find me.”

“Who’ll find you?”

“James.”

“Who’s James?”

“My…” Molly sobs. “My boyfriend.”

Irene’s heart sinks. She’s connecting the dots.

“Why don’t you want him to find you, Molly?”

Molly shakes her head more violently, then whimpers. “So dizzy.”

“We’re almost there.” Irene speeds the last few yards to the hospital. Her parking job is shit, but she doesn’t care. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Molly is too weak to protest at this point. She lets Irene pull her out of her seat and help her into the hospital. At the desk, Irene tells the receptionist that she found Molly at a pub, and that she was bleeding when she found her. Right away, a nurse whisks Molly into the back. They tell Irene to stay in the waiting room. 

Irene does not like being told what to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for rape, sexual assault, violence, and the aftermath thereof.
> 
> Irene does NOT like being told what to do...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also isn't quite as intense, but there is detail about the aftermath of the previous chapters. Proceed with caution.

They want Molly to change into a gown, but changing means undressing, and undressing means seeing what James did to her, and seeing it will make her remember. She can barely stand, so someone has to try and help her out of her clothes, and her heart races because the only other person who’s ever seen her out of her clothes has been James and she doesn’t want to think about how that turned out. 

In the end, there’s a compromise: she only has to take off her shirt and bra. She can shimmy out of the skirt from under the gown. Even taking off her shirt is stressful, though, because she pays attention to her arms for the first time, and she can see bruises on her wrists from where James had held them in place and tiny cuts from hitting the side table. 

Being rolled to her room and lying on the table, there’s nothing to distract her from every single pain, even the ones she hadn’t known were there: her arms and back ache, and when she moves she can feel tiny scratches all over her skin. Not to mention the soreness in her pelvis, which feels to her like she is being invaded again.

When she gets to her room, there’s a doctor. She knows him, but can’t think of his name right now. “Molly, I’ll need to take a look under that gown to treat you. Okay?”

“Please don’t,” she whimpers.

“Molly, this needs to happen so we can treat you, okay?” The doctor reaches toward the hem of the gown. Molly flails, kicking his hand away and almost falling off the table. 

“Get off! Get off!” she cries. A woman in scrubs, a cap, and a mask rushes in, gently holding her down. 

From under the mask, a familiar voice says, “I think I can help here.”

-o0o-

Two male nurses are outside finishing their cigarettes. Boys are almost _too_ easy, but she doesn’t have the time to make a female nurse question her sexuality at the moment. One of them is about her height, the other one a good few inches shorter. She goes for the taller one; she has some safety pins in her costume she can use if the clothes don’t fit. Both of them have ID badges clipped to their pockets.

“Hey there,” she says. “Can I bum one?”

“They’re bad for you, you know,” the shorter one jokes as the taller one takes out a cigarette and lights it for her. Both of them occasionally make eye contact, but their real focus is a little lower.

“Thanks,” she says, batting her eyes at the tall one.

“I’m John, by the way.”

“And who’s your friend?”

“Mike,” the short one supplies. He’s making this more difficult than it has to be. Mike glares at John-- just a quick glance, but just enough to know that she is at least not barking up the wrong tree.

“I’m Helena,” Irene says. She nods to John and offers a hand to Mike. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Mike smirks and puffs up his chest as he takes her hand. “The pleasure is ours,” he says. John looks rather put out.

Irene smiles. “You know, I’d rather like to have a… _private_ conversation with you, Mike.”

Mike chuckles jovially. “Well, I can’t refuse such a lovely lady.” He leads her away, and she can hear John huffing angrily behind her.

They stop in a janitor’s closet. _So cliché _, she thinks. As they enter, she takes note of her surroundings: the door locks from the outside, and the keys are hung up on a hook near the frame. _Perfect._ Mike lets her in first, then turns to close the door behind them. When he faces her, she kisses him deeply. As they kiss, she pulls the top of his scrubs over his head and wriggles her way into it, still maintaining contact. Then she tugs down his pants, placing kisses on his hips and stomach. When she comes up, she brings the pants over her legs. She spins him around, pushes him to the floor, and grabs the keys.__

__“Thanks, mate,” she says, exiting the door and locking it._ _

__She flips the shirt right side out, pins the pants tighter around her hips, and starts down the hall, searching for some sign of Molly. She passes a supply cart on the way and nicks a cap and a mask._ _

__Irene spots a nurse’s station and leans against the counter. “Hey, I’m back.”_ _

__“Lisa? I thought you and Jackie had gone out for a cheeky nando’s,” says the nurse, too busy with something on her computer to look up._ _

__“They were a bit too cheeky for me, I’m afraid,” Irene replies. “Hey, I need to find a patient. I think she’s in an exam room. Last name Hooper, first name Molly?”_ _

__The nurse taps away on her keyboard. “Yeah, exam room three,” the nurse says._ _

__Irene detects the minute tilt in her head that-- she hopes-- indicates the way to the exam rooms. She heads off. Then, from a room two doors down, she hears Molly screaming. She dashes in and reaches out to her._ _

__To the doctor, she says, “I think I can help here.”_ _

__-o0o-_ _

__“Irene?” Molly gasps, barely audible._ _

__“Who in the hell are you?” asks the doctor angrily. “Why are you wearing a surgical mask, why _aren’t_ you wearing gloves, and why don’t I recognize your voice?”_ _

__Irene pulls off the mask and the cap. “Okay, honestly? I’m a friend of Molly’s. They wouldn’t let me come in, but I knew there’d be trouble if I wasn’t here; I’ve… been in this sort of situation before.”_ _

__Molly looks at her questioningly, but Irene either doesn’t notice or ignores her._ _

__The doctor shakes his head. “I shouldn’t be allowing this, but I am. You’re lucky I need you here.”_ _

__“Good show, doc! Now, how can I help?”_ _

__“Well, the patient’s bleeding is slowing down, so I don’t think she’ll need stitches, but someone needs to sterilize and dress the wound.”_ _

__Molly sees the flicker of anger in Irene’s eyes when the doctor calls her “the patient.” She wants to tell her that that’s how things are, sometimes, but she’s too fuzzy to explain it now._ _

__“Molly,” Irene says soothingly, making steady eye contact with her for the first time since she entered the room, “can I dress your wound? I’ll need to touch your injured hip. I promise I won’t hurt you.”_ _

__Molly takes a deep breath, nodding._ _

__“Thank you, Molly.” Irene takes the doctor’s spot near Molly’s legs. “Talk me through it.”_ _

__“Wash your hands and put some gloves on… Okay. First you need to clean the blood from the wound. There’s gauze here. Dip it in the solution there, and wipe gently until there’s no more old blood. Good. The antiseptic is here. Use this swab to gently apply it to the area. Don’t poke it in the wound, just get it right to the edges. Right, now grab this large bandage here. Take off the-- yeah. Press it on gently, but make sure you apply a good amount of pressure. Good. Now you’ll just have to stay like that for a but. Keep applying pressure. Good, good.”_ _

__As the doctor instructs Irene, she mutters encouragements to Molly. Molly closes her eyes and focuses on Irene’s voice. She’s calmer than she’s felt in a long, long while._ _

__Suddenly, three men burst into the room. Two of them are male nurses, one of whom is wearing scrubs that are uncomfortably small for him. The other is a security guard._ _

__“That’s her! That’s the one!” shouts one of the nurses._ _

__“Mike?” Molly asks, her head jerking up slightly and laying it down when pain flashes through her temple._ _

__“Molly? God, what happened?”_ _

__“John?” Molly feels exposed in front of her coworkers. She shrinks into herself._ _

__“Molly, I’m terribly sorry about whatever happened to you, but now is _not_ the time to discuss it. That woman assaulted me and took my scrubs and my badge!”_ _

__“What?!” Molly yelps. The guard steps toward Irene, but the doctor intervenes._ _

__“I’m terribly sorry about whatever happened to you, _Mike_ ,” the doctor spits, “but this woman is playing an integral part in treating a patient-- one who just so happens to be your coworker. This is a serious allegation, but under the circumstances, I ask that you wait until the patient in need has been treated.”_ _

__Molly revels in Irene’s smirk. Mike steps back, holding up his hands. “Okay, okay. But I want my scrubs back.”_ _

__“Of course,” says Irene._ _

__The men turn to leave as another nurse enters. “Miss Hooper, your emergency contact has arrived,” she says. A man steps into the room, carrying flowers and wearing a concerned expression._ _

__“Dear god, Molly, I came as soon as I heard.”_ _

__“James…” Molly whispers. Then she blacks out._ _


End file.
